


What We Gain From What We Lost

by WandererAtTheWayside



Series: If I Look Back (I Am Lost) It Is Already Over [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Gratuitous Violence, Hurt/Comfort, I actively put it out of our misery, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Realities of Ninja Life, Saratobi fucks up, Time Travel Fix-It, Tsunade is trying, and very tired, mikoto is a badass, nara shikaku is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererAtTheWayside/pseuds/WandererAtTheWayside
Summary: The thing is, Naruto was supposed to fix things. Not even an hour in the world and already saving the village from the Kyuubi.The thing is, Naruto is used to weight. One prophecy and a village's desperate cry;save me, save me, save me.The thing is, Naruto knows Legacy. Sasuke sneers that he doesn’t know what he never had but somewhere there is an island that calls his name, not Naruto, Uzumaki.But Naruto can’t fix death, and he can’t carry the weight of people who aren’t there. Legacy, though, is still an island. A slip of land between the decimated Kuno and Kiri.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi/OC, Hoshigaki Kisame & Uchiha Itachi, Nara Shikamaru & Uzumaki Naruto, Uzumaki naruto and oc
Series: If I Look Back (I Am Lost) It Is Already Over [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096163
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh strap in cause this is a few years in the making and completely throws out major aspects of canon and then makes my fix-it headcanons a major part of the plot. updates will be slow because the world is on fire and i don't have my shit together.

_ The thing is, Naruto was supposed to fix things. Not even an hour in the world and already saving the village from the Kyuubi.  _

_ The thing is, Naruto is used to weight. One prophecy and a village's desperate cry;  _

_ save me, save me, save me. _

_ The thing is, Naruto knows Legacy. Sasuke sneers that he doesn’t know what he never had but somewhere there is an island that calls his name, not Naruto, Uzumaki.  _

_ But Naruto can’t fix death, and he can’t carry the weight of people who aren’t there. Legacy, though, is still an island. A slip of land between the decimated Kuno and Kiri. _

_ His arrival is quiet, the waters all but placid with the stilling of Uzushio’s whirlpools. The first thing he notes is that there are still birds to chirp here, the second is that Zetsu has caught up to him. _

_ The demon stands just shy of the barrier, the boiling ocean swaying beneath his feet. _

_ “Why do you go on?” It asks. _

_ “There is nothing to fix,” _

_ And _

_ “There is nothing to carry.” _

_ Naruto stares into the steam, a thousand grinning mouths stare back, and turns away. _

_ Later, sometimes, he indulges Zetsu. Because it is the end of the world and he will take conversation where he can get it, let’s it fill the hours he can’t spend looking at the wreckage of his people and the works of art they wrote in blood and ink. _

_ It will be ten years before he finds what he came for. Ten years learning from these ruins as best he can, ten years watching Zetsu rule a wasteland in the name of It’s mother. _

_ Held sacred by its once occupants, what lies in the centre of Uzushio is a lake, and in that lake a whirlpool. Naruto plunges into the spiraling waters until his feet hit stone. _

_ Chittering laughter echoes above the roar of falling water. A thousand Uzumaki spirits bound to the lake. They beckon him closer. _

_ The floor is a mosaic of colourful panes of glass, a dizzying array, a gate. And, as he looks closer, one that is broken. Entire sections lay shattered, obscuring the original matrix. Naruto can see runes for Holding, for Barring, and Chaining, and Sealing.  _

_ Between the ruined sections golden threads hold what’s left of the gate together, some straining over the yawning pit where the glass has fallen away, most snapped and dangling into the inky darkness. Every intact line leads towards the centre to wrap and disappear into the skin of the man kneeling on the floor.  _

_ His hair is a stunning and bloody copper in what light filters from above. The scars on his face are prominent. Two parallel lines, one across his eyes, the other across his throat, the third starting at the top of his right cheek and only stopping at his collar bone.  _

_ Ronan Uzumaki. _

_ Ronan of the Seven Storms. _

_ The Storm Wind. _

_ The last Great General of Uzushio. _

_ Naruto remembers what Kurama had told him, before he, too, had gone. _

**_“There was a man I once knew, before you. I gave him a gift in return for a great service. If everything is lost to you find him in the heart of Uzushio, he will be able to help you.”_ **

_ And some dim, fading part of him that is still the fox bubbles up in fondness for this man he had never met. _

_ The glass around Ronan was badly cracked, the threads holding his upper body the only thing keeping him from falling into the gaping hole in front of him. Naruto steps lightly, carefully approaching him to crouch at the General’s side.  _

_ He takes a deep breath. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he followed Kurama’s advice, but this, it almost wants to make him give up. Ronan’s body may not have rotted, but he isn’t alive. And even for a Uzumaki there isn’t much a dead man could do. _

_ Firming his jaw Naruto reaches forward to trace the intricate runes inked into the left side of the General's face. _

_ Help me fix this, he thinks, and winces when a thread cuts deeply into his finger,  _

_ /Red marrs gold,/  _

_ Naruto feels the earth rumble underneath his feet _

_ /and blood drops unto glass./ _

_ Around him the whirlpool stops spinning, a balance held only in its forward momentum tipping over, _

_ /Laughter crescendos into triumphant howls./ _

_ and Ronan’s eyes snap open. _

_. _

_. _

_ A man holds the fulcrum of calamity in his hands and rages, let me tip it, he screams, let me break them. _

  
  


_. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

  
  


_ Get up! _

A voice forces its way into his head, dragging his fading consciousness forward. Up and up. But only towards more darkness. His eyes are burning, he is burning.

_ Get up! _

Ronan gasps, trying to breathe. The Mizukage’s parting gift sears his eyes shut and he cannot see through the blood, he cannot see at all but he _ feels, _

The wires pressing him to the ground,

The ragged panting of the ninja,

The kunai racing for his throat,

He wrenches himself backwards, not quite fast enough. The blade pierces his throat and he gags on the blood. He spits it out, hisses ‘ _ rend _ ’ through his teeth and the wires holding him to the ground snap. Ninja shout in warning as he rises, calling his weapon to him as he goes. He forces himself to think, to ignore the voice screaming inside his head.

This battle is lost. Demons run rampant inside the barriers ( _ world _ ) and the combined forces of Iwa, Kiri and Kumo wait like carrion birds just outside it. There is no safety ( _ anywhere _ ) in Kuno, his sister has not brought reinforcements, his sister is dead.

The ninja linger just out of his glaive's range, waiting for him to fall. Even now, exhausted and bleeding, they fear him too much to make the first move. Instead they shift behind their Kage. The only one of three left alive after four months of battle.

He grins, bearing his teeth and setting his feet. His people are dead and his island is falling but the nine lords themselves would lie ruined before he handed these ninja Uzushio. The only victory he would give them will be pyrrhic

The Tsuchikage drops something, the clap of his hands ringing in Ronan’s ears. He shifts to the balls of his feet, senses frantically stretching to find something he can’t see when he hears two people slam into the battlefield.

The ninja scream, chakra flaring with pain and alarm. The Kage turns to defend his men and Ronan jumps forward. Lightning held tightly in his fist as he slams it into the Tsuchikage’s spine. The man howls, someone jumping forward a second too late to defend him. The attack spills over, lightning reaching outwards to cripple before the earth rises to force Ronan away. It carries the Kage down, down and away. Ronan doesn’t have the energy to go after him, he grips his throat, he doesn’t have the blood to spare.

Familiar chakra brushes against his own in warning as Shikataro lands beside him, Oisin right behind him. The younger man lets out a hiss, hands reaching out to support Ronan when he staggers, Shikataro sliding in front of them to warn off the surviving ninja.

“We need to get to the centre,” Ronan rasps, “I need to close the gate.”

For a moment there’s nothing but grim silence from the two men and the distant sound of screaming.

His breath leaves him in a wet, bubbling rush as Oisin hoists him over his shoulder and takes off, the comforting feeling of Shikataro settling into his shadow barely offsetting the panic beating in his chest. He senses the ninja scatter, running for the mainland as the three of them head back towards the island. The scent of sea salt is overpowered by the stench of demonic blood as they pass through the barrier and back into the village proper. 

The screaming tapers off as howls resonate through the streets, the furious pounding on the barrier’s walls as the demons try to break free shrieking through the air. Caught in the cacophony it is Oisin’s steady breathing Ronan holds onto, trying to ignore how everything now seems so much  _ louder.  _

Something whistles through the air and he grabs Oisin’s arm and throws his weight sideways, wind brushing past his face as something swings above his head. The wet thud of metal impacting flesh reaches his ears and something screeches. Shikataro grabs him and sprints, the sound of feet on cobblestone stop as a spray of water washes over his face.

“Get him to the gate!” Oisin yells.

“Wait!” Ronan struggles, reaching for where he can hear the boy.

Shikataro doesn’t slow down to argue. His hands shake where they hold Ronan as he abandons stealth for speed. 

“We’re almost there,” Shikataro grunts. 

“Go back for him! I’ll get myself to the centre but please, please Taro he has to make it out.”

Shikataro says nothing as he runs.

Ronan can hear the sounds of battle raging behind him over even the roaring of the whirlpool their racing towards. Shrieks of laughter and the heady thrum of spoken runes. He gives himself a second, just one, to grieve. 

They hit the lake and fall hard, water roaring around them as Shikataro loses his balance. For a second Ronan hears whispers in the water, quiet cries of anguish and rage, and they stay with him as he hits the gate.

He coughs harshly as the air is forced from his lungs, gasping. 

_ Fix it _

He drags himself up, blood pooling underneath him as he inches along.

“Ronan,” Shikataro calls.

_ Fix it _

His blood spreads running and spiraling into grooved paths carved into every inch of the stained glass.

There’s a moment of stillness outside the whirlpool, a moment of held breath, and then bloodlust and killing intent rolls across the island in a roar as every demon left either throws themselves harder against the barrier or races towards the gate.

_ Make it right _

Ronan binds himself to the runes, chakra reaching through the veil to grip the other side of the gate, to grab onto the doors and _ pull _ .

Runes race across his skin and Shikataro screams his name but Ronan doesn’t hear him. Thick strands of gold erupt from his skin and plunge through the gate, winding around his arms and torso to hold him fixed to the floor.

_ Close it, close it,  _ **_close the gate_ **

Outside of his head, outside of the seal writing itself into Ronan’s chest, Shikataro eyes the demons just arriving over the top of the whirlpool and breathes a sigh through his nose. He plants himself in front of Ronan and wraps his fingers tight around his kunai, calling the shadows to himself in his last stand.

The last rune flares bright and Ronan loses himself in the sweet rush of power.

.

.

.

.

(Wake up)

(Wake up)

**(Wake up!)**

Ronan gasps, sucking air into aching lungs as his body protests every movement. Somethings holding him up, tangling his arms above his head. He twists, tearing through it and falling forward, barely catching himself on his hands.

One of his hands brushes against fabric, against armour, against hair and the smooth surface of-

(We have to go, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but we have to save them)

.

.

_ A man holds the fulcrum of calamity in his hands. Let me fix it, he cries, let me save them. _


	2. Zabuza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zabuza would like to say he found the bastard sketchy from the get-go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT
> 
> I completely forgot to mention this is the PROLOGUE to the main story. I've just changed so much that you guys need the context for it or the main story won't make any sense and I'd have to waste a ton of time on exposition. That being said some things will still be left as a surprise, so strap in and have fun. Each chapter will be from a different character's perspective and reveal some of the things that Ronan being awake and moving does to canon.
> 
> WARNINGS
> 
> Blood, fighting, general violence, a whole bunch of swearing

**995**

Zabuza was born at the start of the Second Great war, during the fall of the Uzumaki. He will never know the heights they had reached or the fear Kiri nin felt when they crossed in battle. There will be echoes, though, things time hasn't yet managed to erase. 

A year before Zabuza slaughters his classmates his father takes him as far south as the mainland goes to a fishing village on the coast. The fishermen here use chakra and he spends an afternoon learning why.

“Mujihi lives up ta its name,” a grizzled old man tells him, hands calloused and scarred as he looks over his net. There is a massive rip along one of its sides as if some great blade has sawed through the rope.

“Few hundred years ago we got tired o’ losin men over th’side and complained ta Uzushio. They taught us how ta walk on water an stick ta th’sides o’ our boats.”

Zabuza looks south, towards an island his teachers still shiver in fear of, the same island this man stares so fondly towards.

“Sounds like a lot of risk, why not fish somewhere else old man?”

The old man barks out a laugh and nods towards the ocean.

“Th’ water’s treacherous, th’ Uzumaki did something ta their waters n’ now th’currents so wild n’ sharp that only th’largest animals can make it ‘n the deeper parts. Ev’ry winter pregnant whales make their way ta Uzushio’s sheltered shores where th’sharks can’t go, but, they’re forced ta take tamer waters back out wit’ their calves in th’ spring. Sharks ‘ll near starve th’entire winter out ta get a bite, n’ if you ride th’waters well enough, so can you. A whale calf ‘ll feed a village for weeks, it’s oil n’ blubber sellin for thousands. A shark-”

The old man tips his head, shading his eyes with the brim as Zabuza’s father walks up.

“-will sell for even more.”

His father wraps a hand around the back of Zabuza’s neck, staring down at the old man.

“I was just asking around, another Kiri-nin has gone missing in these waters.”

There’s something in his father’s eyes that Zabuza doesn’t understand yet.

“Ah well,” the old man starts, eyes never leaving his hands as they twist the rope around and around and around.

“Some o’ them git cocky, think they’re better water walkers than us. These waters ‘re unnatural you know? once people ‘re swept away their gone, an’ no one’s gunna risk their neck try’n’ta pull’em out.``

“Of course, not much you can do against natural stupidity.” Zabuza’s father sighs but his lips pull into a grin he shares with the old man. 

Zabuza catches the glint of pointed teeth under a wide brimmed hat and reflexively runs his tongue over his own, the sharp points catching on the sensitive skin.

His father will die a traitor four months later but this day will stay with Zabuza for the rest of his life.

  
  


* * *

**1002**

In the following years Zabuza learns to know risk like he knows how the sharp edge of a blade cuts, like he knows being third caste isn’t fair, and like he knows the cost of changing Kiri-nin minds.

And he learns to know reward, it's the academy getting rid of the First Blood exam, it's the sweet feeling of Kubikiribocho in his grip, and it is the glint in Mizuhara’s eyes when she brings him and Mei to Kiri’s southernmost coast to meet a blind man with scarred hands.

“Who the hell’re you?” Zabuza barks, angry, and young, and so very untrusting.

The man’s eyes are covered by a scrap of blue fabric, the ratted ends tied behind his head. A white kimono wrapped loosely enough that Zabuza can tell he can’t be carrying any weapons larger than senbon. He looks like a beggar and yet, there is something in him that reminds Zabuza of that fisherman. A fierce pride, and a furious rage.

“He’s a ferryman,” Mizuhara says. “The best of the best, He’ll be able to escort our comrades through waters rougher than we usually go.”

Mei’s appraisal of the man sharpens but Zabuza’s sneer only grows deeper. 

“What happened to the old man?” He asks.

“Early retirement,” Mizuhara tells him

Zabuza knows better than to let his lips tremble.

“And some blind asshole is supposed to do better.”

Mei elbows him sharply in the side but Zabuza has grown up learning to hit back so hard no one ever figures out he felt that first blow.

The man only smiles, teeth blunt but glinting in the light off the ocean.

  
  
  


* * *

**1005**

If Zabuza ever caught the person that reported him they were going to wish they were dead, they were going to _ beg  _ for it before he let Kubikiribocho take their head.

Haku huddles by his side, small hands clinging to his pant leg and Zabuza fights the urge to shake him off. Not the kids fault Zabuza was stupid enough to save him. No. That was all Zabuza and his goddamn bleeding heart, if Mei ever called him a cold-blooded bastard again he was gonna shove this in her face so hard she’d be tasting it for a week.

He watches the Ferryman unwind the boat from the dock and hold the end of the rope in his hands.

“Please keep your hands in the boat,” He says mildly, as if Zabuza didn’t already fucking know, and steps onto the surface of the ocean. He’d say the man was Kiri born with the way he stays on the water if he didn’t know exactly where they were headed.

Behind them noise rises from the mainland and Zabuza tenses, but, as much as he wants to look he’s not stupid enough to turn his back towards Uzushio. Though he doesn’t doubt the military police have already swarmed the shore. Haku peaks his head above the edge of the boat and Zabuza shoves it back down.

The Ferryman looks back and hums as the shouts grow louder. They are not too far out and Zabuza can hear the sound of blades being drawn from here.

“I suppose we'll have to be quicker about this.”

He gets into the front of the boat, winding the extra length of rope absently around his wrist before leaning down to dip his fingers into the water.

He speaks, then, or something like it. Zabuza’s ears ring with a sound almost too high to register. The boat shudders, suddenly rising in the water before jerking forward. Haku gasps, leaning over the edge to look at something and Zabuza grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him away. Stupid kid was gonna fall over and get himself killed, or eaten, by whatever the fuck just decided to drag them along in it’s wake.

“Head IN the boat or you lose it.”

Scales shimmer from the corner of his eye and Zabuza resolutely refuses to look, shaking the kid a little instead.

The kid’s eyes widen dramatically and he ducks down. The Ferryman looks over and tutts disapprovingly, reaching over to ruffle the kids hair. Zabuza resists the urge to growl.

“We’ll be fine,” he smiles, “I’ll have you safely there soon.”

Yeah right, Zabuza huffs an aggravated breath as he stares out towards Faray. There’s nothing safe about Uzushio or it’s smaller offshoot islands. He’s painfully aware it’s by the grace of this man that the rebellion finds any kind of haven in its territory. And he’s not interested in finding out how long that charity lasts.

  
  
-  
  


**1005** \- a few months later

Haku runs ahead, a child’s den-den daiko rattling in his hands as he rushes off to find some of the sweet berries the Ferryman had told them would be in season. 

“To the left, kid, then double back by the stream.” 

He waits until the plants stop rustling in the kids wake and he can’t hear the small footsteps anymore. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You are not permitted to know.”

Zabuza swings around, kubikiribocho held firmly in his hand. There’s a woman almost hidden in the vegetation, tall, frothy fronds obscuring her silhouette. She’s wearing some sort of under armour, clothes torn in multiple places and a large shard of a porcelain mask in her hand. Zabuza grits his teeth and reminds himself she wouldn’t be here if the Ferryman didn’t want her here. So, dangerous, but probably not for the resistance.

Her fishy, dead-eye stare drills into him as she reaches behind her back.

Yeah, fuck that, Zabuza knew that asshole’s generosity would run out sooner or later. He’d thought it would end in some kind of flood but bringing random hostile ninja to the island to watch them duke it all out is exactly the kind of thing a mysterious, overpowered asshole would do.

Zabuza runs forward, sword sweeping by his side to sever her at the knees. She leaps backwards, feet finding purchase on a tree trunk to launch herself over and behind him.

Fucking squirrel.

He twists around again to face her and they’re on each other in seconds. 

The sound of steel on steel rings out through the clearing as they clash, her wakizashi against his butcher's blade.

She’s smart enough to pull close, taking away the advantage of his reach and making it hard to maneuver his blade. He brings up his hand between them, fingers curling into three quick signs and a blast of water forces her back.

She snarls. Her anger at getting drenched oddly intense and something Zabuza is absolutely going to exploit the fuck out of. 

She holds her own hands up, forming seals around the wakizashi’s hilt and a jet of flame roars across the clearing. It’s met with another blast of water and steam billows out around them.

He uses the cover to go in low, aiming again for her legs. Again she jumps back. And a game of cat and squirrel is on.

It might have stayed that way, ending either in him gaining the distance to slash her in two or her getting close enough to slit his throat, but his _ fucking _ kid came back early.

“No!” A small voice calls out.

Ice crawls rapidly across the grass to catch both of them in its grip as it climbs their legs.

“Kid!” Zabuza snarls. Haku winces. The ice is thick and Zabuza knows he doesn’t have the control to release them.

An awkward kind of silence descends as they all try to figure out how to get out of this. Zabuza tells Haku to go back to camp and is soundly ignored so he focuses on breaking the ice with Kubikiribochu instead, loudly cursing the entire situation and the island in particular. The woman starts a flame in her palm and gets to melting her temporary prison.

Haku, with what stupid child-like curiosity that hasn’t been beaten out of him yet, asks:

“How did you get here?”

The woman narrows her eyes. Zabuza tells himself he won’t engage.

“I swam.”

“What the fuck do you mean you swam!”

Dammit.

Her look is almost smug, the bitch.

“When your island appeared in the distance I swam for it. How do I get off of this one.”

“That’s bullshit and you don’t, the Ferryman takes you.”

“That...makes no logical sense, what skills does he possess that allows him to go as he pleases.”

Zabuza snorts. 

“Seals, what the fuck else?”

They stay silent after that, both working away.

“I’m Haku.” The kid says, after their both out, and holds out a hand. The woman doesn’t take it, but she stills, not immediately darting away. 

“I am... Akeru”

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

**1007**

Zabuza keeps his grin hidden beneath his mask as he fights his way through his home village. Blood colours the canals red as smoke rises from inside compound walls.

Mei laughs somewhere ahead of him, swaths of lava pouring out of the hallways in the Kage’s palace as she works her way through the Hunter-nin and jounin stationed there. Explosions ringing out in the distance manage to occasionally drown out the screams and shouting of ninjutsu being thrown around. It’s chaos and Zabuza thrives in it. With Akeru guarding Haku back in Faray he can let loose like he hasn’t been able to since he first saved the kid.

A woman spits at his feet as he moves forward.

“Fucking godsdamned demon-kin.” She snarls as she tries to put a kunai through his eye. Zabuza takes it personally and takes off her head.

Her body falls to the floor and he keeps going.

“Zabuza!” Mizuhara calls and Zabuza’s vision smears sickeningly as someone comes up behind him and grabs onto the back of his neck.

He swings his sword the second he’s clear and the Ferryman dodges it, shooting him an amused look. Mizuhara gets between them and Zabuza turns his attention to the courtyard he’d been moved from and catches sight of the Mizukage sending out a wind release that tears apart the entire courtyard, picking up kiri loyalists and resistance ninja alike. Zabuza hisses under his breath. Something was off though. The kage moved like he was stiff, almost like he was hiding an injury. Mei snarls as she bashes her way through an outer wall to get at the soon to be ex-kage.

“Your word?” Mizuhara turns to the Ferryman.

The man nods absently, more focused on the clearing. Looking closer, he has a new cloth tied around his eyes, some sort of drawn on stylised eyes over where his own are. Fucking mystic seal bullshit. Zabuza doesn’t want to know.

He turns his attention back to the courtyard to where Mei and Yagura were now duking it out, trying to see what the Ferryman was so intent on. It takes him a second to see the figure lurking in the shadows, some weird plant thing hanging around its neck and face. Zabuza tenses, but that thing isn’t focused on Mei. He’s so focused on it he misses the Ferryman’s push off the roof, but he sees where he lands. 

Plant head shoots forward, hand outstretched towards Yagura, and just as it reaches him the Ferryman slams into both of them. The second they collide the three of them disappear in a flash of light.

“Well.” Zabuza says as Mei howls in fury at the stolen kill.

“Fuck.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> virtual cookies to anyone who can guess who the next chapter will be on
> 
> The timeline is mostly there for me but anyone paying attention can piece together when Ronan does what using it


	3. Shikaku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Shikaku will never admit to anyone under pain of death and sobriety is how willing he was at first to ignore the whole thing and go back to sleep. That 13 years of ignoring the creatures that stayed stubbornly just out of sight had served him well up until then and he hadn’t really seen the point in changing that, had known, with even as little information as he had then, that it was going to be a pain. Ultimately he didn’t, and he spends the next 20 or so years swinging between immense relief and deep, deep regret over that.

**1001**

Shikaku doesn’t know a lot about the Uzumaki. But he knows enough. He knows his uncle left the forest for their island, taking his daughter with him, and that’s the reason Shikaku is Clan Head. Knows the cousin that came back never forgave the destruction of the land she considered her home. And he knows what that cousin brought with her is the reason the Nara forest is what it is today, and that Kushina had loved her dearly for it. 

Anywhere the Nara’s settle creates deep shadows. The kind that stretch unnaturally long and cool, the kind that skitters in the edge of your vision and only reluctantly retreats under the light of day and laughs at the attempts of the moon.

It’s only after Hoshika Nara-Uzumaki came back that another kind of shadow took up residence in the Nara forest. Shadows that pretend to be one of their deer when anyone went looking, and ones they learned were better to ignore.

It’s fitting, he thinks, that it is her namesake that finally reveals one of them.

“Hoshika,” He says, as calm as he can manage.

Small and dark and solemn eyes stare up at him between the hooves of something that is.. distinctly  _ not-a-deer _ . 

It’s been three months since the report of her death had crossed his desk, his young, distant niece. When he has her safely with her parents he is going to be furious, can feel it bubble slow and hot under his chest as he forces himself to look non-threatening. The creature stomps a cloven hoof as large as a dinner plate and Shikaku prays it won’t accidentally crush her.

“Hoshika, do you think it’s safe to move?”

She nods, gathering her feet under her and holding the bundle of cloth she holds in her arms tightly. It wiggles and lets out a wail. Shikaku resists the urge to close his eyes and  _ sigh _ . Prioritize, he thinks, the most important things come first. Last he checked there hadn’t been any infant deaths in the clan so it was unlikely that the child was another Nara, so this could go a number of directions. He prays it’s not a troublesome one. Right now, what he needs is more information.

He keeps an eye on the Not-Deer as Hoshika walks towards him.

“Do you know how you got here? I need you to be as specific as you can.”

“It was dark and I was being carried and then, I don’t know, it happened very fast. There was a man, I think he killed the others, but he opened the box I was in and he said he’d take me home.”

“Did he have any identifiable features? Did he say anything important?”

“I think he was blind. He said, he told me to tell you that you need to be more careful, that ROOT was getting bold.” She tells him.

That would be a lot more helpful if Shikaku knew what ROOT was.

“Did the man say anything about that?” He nods his head towards the Not-Deer.

She steps up beside him and turns back to look at it. It’s beautiful. The main body was deer-like. The fur shining an almost metallic bronze where the sun filters through the trees. Massive golden antlers arch over it’s head and it’s legs end in cloven hooves. The comparison ends at the tail. Thick at the base is tapers down into a point covered in a thick tuft of hair that continues up it’s back. Shikaku can live with that, but it’s the sharp, predatory teeth and the wolf-like line of it’s muzzle that makes him wary. It could open it’s mouth wide enough to swallow Shikaku’s head whole if it were so inclined.

“He said if I really needed him she’d deliver a message.”

Well that was something at least. He gently takes the baby, peering down at it.

Red eyes stare up at him, one tomoe spinning in each. Hoshika peaks over his elbow.

“He said she’s not supposed to do that yet.”

Symbols flare to life around the baby’s eyes, glowing a warm, buttery gold. As they fade so does the sharingan and then there are just dark eyes and an unblemished face looking up at him.

Shikaku stares.

He’s going to have to talk with the Uchiha Matriarch.

“Oh, he had red hair. It was very pretty.”

* * *

**1002**

Hoshika pushes Shisui into the pond in the Uchiha family's main residence to make Emiko laugh. Propped up in Itachi’s lap Emiko falls into a fit of giggles as her brother comes up sputtering.

Behind them Mikoto covers a dainty laugh behind her hand. Shikaku snorts.

“I’m glad they're getting along well.” She says. He nods amicably.

“Enough that she’s taking him cloud watching.” He lights a cigarette and brings it to his lips, looking at her from the side of his eye.

“The Clouds have been still lately, makes for a peaceful viewing, if a bit boring.”

Her frown is subtle, only the slightest pursing of her lips.

“That’s good, I took Emiko out to one of the public grooves to get a look at the trees. It was,, frustrating. People were unusually curt to me.”

“Must have been the weather.” He murmurs, watching through half lidded eyes as an ANBU slides into the shadow of the Uchiha main estate.

“Quite.” 

There are currents here that Shikaku can slowly see shifting, old sediment being turned over. He owes a favour to an unknown man, and depending on what comes up he might be making it two. 

* * *

**1003**

Shikaku is a person grounded in facts, he doesn’t take risks that rise over a certain percentage of failure. He lines up what he knows.

First.

Orochimaru is a traitor. Unethical experimentation on (clan?) children are among the worst of his crimes.

Orochimaru is one of the most dangerous shinobi to come out of Konoha. There is a very limited number of squads that could be sent out for a successful capture, even less that won’t result in casualties.

Orochimaru is a student of the Sandaime. Even now the Sandaime holds a soft spot for him. 

Second.

Saika Yamanaka was sent on a four man squad to retrieve Orochimau.

Saika is an extremely intelligent psychologist, she’s more than capable of getting into Orochimaru’s head and figuring out where he’ll go.

Saika’s team will encounter Orochimaru.

Saika is not a combat specialist.

Third.

It was going to kill Inoichi to lose his wife.

Solution?

Nothing he could do, they had already been sent out. There was no one he could send after her without undermining the Hokage and causing an incident. No one that was a part of the village.

Solution?

Shikaku owes a debt to a man with an unknown skill set and unknown loyalties. There is risk, here- how bad is the man that saved a child? He could be awful, but Shikaku has lived with awful since he first wore the hitai-ate that proclaimed his loyalty.

Shikaku goes to the Nara forest that afternoon with Hoshika balanced on his hip, the quiet weight his decisions held closely to his chest.

Three days later Saika Yamanaka is found at the Nara Forrest’s edge, an unknown mandala painted across her back keeping what was left of her shattered chakra system together.

* * *

  
  


**1004**

Shikaku is lounging on the hill inside the main compound for once a strand of grass between his lips instead of a cigarette when Kakashi leans over him, blocking the light.

The kid stares at him with that nearly dead look all the ANBU get eventually, his porcelain mask hanging from the side of his head and illegally showing his face. Not that much of it is actually showing.

“I saw Hoshika-chan the other day, she’s cute.”

Shikaku feels a headache coming on and refuses to comment, waiting.

“Of course, I suppose any kid looks cute after you find them alive, all those rushing endorphins or what have you.”

Shikaku isn’t quite comfortable enough to close his eyes but his expression gets the point across enough that Kakashi’s face settles along falsely amused lines.

“I got curious, she was slated to be a tracker for us after training, I was surprised to see her back with you.” He says.

“That’s been put on hold, we’re not sending people to you until we’re sure we know where they’re going.” 

“Quite a few people don’t end up where they’re supposed to.” Kakashi points out, his voice lowering into something almost sing-song. “I’ve been looking into it, at first I thought it was a leak on my end but it turns out it was on yours. Makes you wonder who has the kind of hubris to go over your heads like that.”

Shikaku is too good of a ninja to react visibly. He slides his eyes over the younger ninja instead. Kakashi has bags under his one visible eye and he crouches like a coiled livewire, all manic genius and I-know-something-you-don’t.

“I don’t suppose this is where you tell me who?”

“Mmm, here’s the thing I don’t get.” Kakashi ignored him, “Who saved Hoshika-chan?”

There is something here Shikaku is missing. Kakashi never got involved in something that wasn’t personal, and after the Yondaime’s death there was very little that was personal to the copy-nin. 

“Are you trying to tell me you’ll show me your if I show you mine.” He deadpanned.

Kakashi grinned and this time it was almost genuine.

* * *

**1008**

Shikaku waits for the rest of the visitors to trickle out before entering Mikoto’s hospital room. The room is the typical off white, minimalist design of any hospital, though the private room means there are some personal touches, a couch in the corner and a tv hanging from the wall in front of the bed. Sasuke lies curled at his mother’s side, deeply asleep but twitching every other moment.

He takes a seat on the visitor’s chair, absently noting the gift Yoshino had sent was lying on the bed. Mikoto tracks him as he leans forward to look at it.

_ A dozen and one ways to politely tell your haters to fuck off.  _ The title reads. Yeah, that was something Yoshino would send.

“How are you holding up.” He says.

“Fine,” she tells him, “ it could have been worse.”

Shikaku thinks of half a compound burned to the ground, dozens of bodies in the streets with their eyes slashed open, and the sort of hazy fear of a people too isolated for help to arrive on time. He thinks, also, of seals painted in blood, barriers protecting nurseries and homes and stragglers. Of a power of could taste at a distance holding something else at bay.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “ it could always be worse.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1002 conversation in plain terms  
> Shikaku went looking for leads from Kumo since they have a History of sketchy stealing people but couldn’t find anything except the normal spies  
> Mikoto made use of the military police to see if the problems were internal but hit a wall when every inquiry was met with distrust, she was trying to find out if any other clan had children stolen as well


End file.
